A day of reflection ...

It's funny ... and it is also sad at the same time ... in the last few days having time to rest, read and reflect along with hanging with some of my extended family have revealed a few things to me ...

First off, I miss my Mom, my brother, and the members of my family who have passed on in recent years. I find it hard to believe it has been SO long since Uncle Drake and my cousin Duane died. (they were the start of the losses) Along the way with the passage of time I've said good bye to my Grandma, my mom, my brother, Mr Baumbach and my friend Indigo (among others) who were meaningful and important to my journey. That sadness ebbs and flows throughout my days, and touches every aspect of my life ...

Last night watching an episode of one of the many 'hoarder' shows on tv, I realized that I could easily spiral into a similar place by holding too tightly to the 'stuff' that carries memories of these folks and others who have graced my journey along the way. While I'm striving to balance the fine line between preserving my memories with a selection of mementos, and not being overwhelmed by the urge to save everything, I find that it would be easy to stumble off into a deep dark place ...

However, I don't fear tripping into the darkness ... I've been there enough to know the warning signs, and I am very fortunate to have a strong circle of family and friends who help keep me level ... for THAT I am thankful.

But what I realized in the last couple of days is how little the Church has really done to help me along the way. In recent months I've been overwhelmed by the care and support of the folks here in the Flesherton Pastoral Charge who have helped get me through the tough spots, and who continue to uphold me through their respective ministries. I've come to realize that they (whether they consciously realize it or not) embody the very virtues and principles of faith and the Christian Calling.

Over and over as I've resumed my reading of church and theological works, I find myself saying "Flesherton and Eugenia do that ..." when I find a passage about faith in action.

I will not say they're perfect - no church is - but the Congregations of St John's and Eugenia don't try to hide their flaws and foibles. They don't slap on a happy face and pretend 'all is well', but rather with a smile and a loving heart they try to wrestle with the issue before them, and they try to offer the best solution they can ... laughter and joy mark the ups and downs.

What I've drawn from this is a realization that this ethos is what I've expected in the life and ministry of a Congregation claiming to follow Jesus. I found this ethos in Portage with the Presbyterian Church I was blessed to serve for a year and a half and I can identify this ethos within individuals in EVERY congregation I've served in my ministry, but I haven't found it as the community ethos in the Congregations I've been called to since the late 90's ...

While I have colleagues and associates who have openly rejected my use of Friedman's book "Generation to Generation" in explaining and understanding the happenings in Langley and Minnedosa, I now stand in a place where I can see how invasive and debilitating the toxicity Friedman identifies has been in EVERY LEVEL of the Church in those areas. Lacking a cohesive and healthy ethos means there is nothing to unify and strengthen the faith community ... dysfunction deepens and strengthens!

This is not to preclude the presence of good and faithful people - I can list by name the people who are not part of the proverbial problem ... the issue is the extent to which the problem is systemic and hidden from view.

Reading Diana Butler-Bass' most recent book "A people's history of Christianity", and the book "There Serenity Prayer" by Elizabeth Sifton helped me see how voices that speak outside of the comfort zone of the status quo will NEVER been given support nor encouragement, but will ALWAYS be rejected and sent packing. In moments of great societal stress, when the Church is called most strongly to speak up and speak out, the lack of a faithful ethos means silence and simply 'going with the flow' becomes the dominant trait of the Church. Those who reject silence and see the need to faithful staunch the flow, are pushed aside and pushed out.

When the voice is shrill, and is coupled with other factors, the situation demands that the easiest solution be sought ... in my case instead of helping me wrestle with my baggage and my stuff, it was easier to send me packing and to (erroneously) announce that everything was all better. For those who remain, and who were in favour of the simple solution things are better, but failing to address the hurts and the unresolved (and in some cases generational) issues that linger, things are NOT all better. They are anything but.

Over and over in the history of the Church we see the triumph of the so-called majority, who want to define the Church on their terms and their conditions, and who will stop at nothing to attain that end. When it comes to small towns and church communities, the majority is usually silent and acquiesce to what the outspoken power brokers want. It is simpler to go along with the squeaky wheels, then stand in their way. And when the squeaky wheels are well heeled, well connected and politically positioned for power and influence, the truth becomes irrelevant, and the ONLY outcome is what they want whether it is right, healthy, appropriate or even moral.

Over and over might trumps right !! History bears this out ...

So, as one who has endured, and in some ways survived the slings and arrows lobbed by the "good church people" over the last fifteen years who have been threatened, offended or otherwise made uncomfortable by my ministry and the challenges (both positive and negative) contained therein, I can look back with bewilderment that the United Church, the denomination that has historically prided itself on being open, inclusive and welcoming, has proven to be anything but when it comes to voices from within that are shrill, sharp, pointed and most of all hurting ...

I will openly admit that I have spent much of my ministry in a place of hurt and loneliness.

I moved far from my family to serve the Church, and was unable to get back when I needed or wanted to ... visits were few and far between ... important people died, and I had to mourn their passing alone and far from the circle I needed to be enveloped within to help my healing and wholeness ...

My calls for help and support were heard and heeded by individuals within the various Congregations I served, but the leadership failed miserably to live the simple principles of love and care and compassion that are central to our faith.

One night many years ago I was called to the bed side of a Church member who was dying ... throughout the night I sat with the family as a life slipped away ... in the pre-dawn hours, we prayed as the final breath was drawn. I went home exhausted and sad at the death and the depth of emotion that had filled the room ... my head had barely hit the pillow when the phone rang and the Board Chair asked why I wasn't in the office.

My explanation of having been up all night with a family was met with "We have office hours for a reason, and as our minister we EXPECT you to honour them ..."

I was, and I remain dumbfounded ...

Looking back, I see the immense abyss that lies between my expectations of ministry and the ethos of the Church, and their operating expectations and ethos ... I draw mine from my readings of theology and Scriptures ... theirs sounds like it came from an MBA text somewhere ...

The Church is NOT a business.
The Church is NOT a business.
The Church is NOT a business.

Can we say it enough??
Can we comprehend what this means?
Can we return to the values, principles and ethos that are found in the teachings of the one who looked up into a tree where a reviled tax collector sat and said "Come down, we need to talk?"

Jesus was not about keeping office hours, or maintaining the status quo. Jesus was about proclaiming, highlighting and embodying the Kingdom of God in our world.

The Kingdom of God welcomes people as they are and helps them strive to be better.

The Kingdom of God welcomes in the sinners and the broken and offers wholeness.

The Kingdom of God welcomes in the dirty and wounded and offers limitless LOVE.

The Kingdom of God is about moving past comfort and safety and embracing our calling.

Sadly, the Kingdom of God is absent in many corners of our world where it is desperately needed, and where it is openly called for ...

We will never find the Kingdom of God amongst the scribes and lawyers and their rules and regulations ... the Kingdom of God is found out where the wounded and the hurting find help and care.

Looking back, I can see that one of my biggest problems is that I, like my brother, operate with an expectation of TRUST and Good Faith. If you say "x" I foolishly expect you to do "x", and get hurt and angry when you DON'T.

Unfortunately, like any good bureaucratic institution, The Church is about saying "X" and doing anything but.

I also foolishly believe that within the Church people will be judged by their ability and their character not by their political or familial connection, and definitely NOT by their economic clout, and not because they have screamed the loudest.

Today, I can see that I carry a fair bit of anger about the path I've been on since my ordination in 1993. The funny thing for me today is the realization that I am most angry at myself for being such a damned fool for believing that the Church would be different from a legalistic bureaucracy that is more interested in preserving and defending itself, then in actually caring for people.

The bureaucracy of the Church saddens me.

In the last 15 years I've struggled emotionally, spiritually, economically, and in a myriad of ways, and my cries for help have been not only ignored, they have been met with actions on the part of the Church that deepened and worsened that spiral ... I will never say I've been blameless, nor will I ever suggest that I wasn't offered care ... however, in the moment when I most needed help, the response from the various Courts of the Church was to shun and ignore me, rather than listen to what was really happening ...

Along the way my hurt and anger deepened, and my loneliness caused me to lash out ... Rather than trying to address the hurts and tend the wounds, the easier path was to push me out the door figuratively AND literally. My hurt offended people and exacerbated PRE-EXISTING problems in no less than TWO congregations and managed to lay bare the dysfunction that was accepted as normal, and that masked the toxins - and rather than trying to solve the crisis in a faithful and just way, the easy route was taken (straight out of Friedman): reject the Clergy and continue with a 'business as usual' attitude.

Again: The Church is NOT a business.

Things were NOT business as usual ... the voices that speak of their hurts, their isolation, their anger and their feelings of rejection show us (if we dare to see) that all is not well in the life and ministry of the faith communities that fail to face the truth. If we are to be an open, welcome, inclusive and faithful community we MUST hear the voices of those who stand on the margins and weep at the actions of the "faithful few".

As we heed and hear and respond to those voices on the margins, we will have to wrestle with the simple realization that we CAN and we MUST do better in the future. Just because the dozen or so people left are happy, doesn't mean the right path was chosen. We MUST hear the stories of the other three dozen people who no longer feel welcome or accepted by the few who remain.

The Spirit calls us to welcome ALL, not just a select few.

My anger and my deepest hurt is the realization that in many cases, the Institution that is the modern Church simply doesn't care about people like me ... my hurts and my wounds and my burdens are mine alone to carry ... If I came from the "right" family, or had the "right" friends and connections, and if I wasn't so prickly, my path in the Church might be easier and less fraught with trauma and rejection, but that realization alone lays bare the most glaring weakness of the Modern Church.

The treatment of people in the Church, both lay and clergy, should NEVER vary, and it should never be influenced by who you know, or who you are related to. The Church is a place for ALL people without condition.

I will never understand why it is so hard to live that principle.

Looking back, I can see now where my choices and my actions lead to negative consequences and very negative outcomes. But I still marvel at the propensity of the Institution to scape goat the minister rather than working at addressing the REAL issue. (This is STRAIGHT out of Friedman)

Over the last fifteen years, I've went through a bewildering spiral of happenings and events that affected and effected my life ... and through it all, the one partner in my ministry that utterly failed in its Covenant, has been the greater Church ... Call me a fool for taking those words of Covenant that mark our Pastoral Relationships seriously, but I will, until my dying day, believe that when you give your word you live by it.

I will not claim to be perfect, but I have tried to live by the promises made in June of 1993 when I was ordained, and that were re-iterated several times since. A Covenant is not 'just words' - it is a binding promise, and because of that, I carry a great deal of sadness about the failure of the other partners to live by THEIR words.

Today, after realizing that my brother struggled with the same issue in his life, I've come to realize how strong my expectation is in regards to living up to one's words. We were raised with the simple ethos of: "If you say it, you do it." There were no exceptions to this rule - it was a sacrosanct thing. And when it came to faith and Church and living out what we believed, it was stronger still.

My brother saw the hypocrisy in the Church long ago ... I've ran hard and fast against it repeatedly ... fortunately, those moments when I have been battered and bloodied by the Institution of the Church, I have been tended to by faithful "Good Samaritans" who like their Scriptural role model rise above the nonsense and address the needs of others in faith, and care no a whit about 'keeping up appearances' or maintaining the status quo.

I hold no illusions that the Institution will ever change. But I thank God that over and over in the last 20 years of my journey I've met people who take their faith seriously, and who in response to the hypocrisy of the Institutional Church, actively chose to live their faith counter to the prevailing ethos of their Church ... and today, for the first time, I can honestly look around and see that I am within a Faith Community that within its diversity has found a commonality in living out their faith TOGETHER in a myriad of caring ways.

I'm still hurt and a bit angry about how the Church has treated me ... but as I finally have the time, the space, the care and the support to tend my wounds and lay aside my burdens, I know that I am a stronger person for the failure of the Church to live its faith thus far ... as they say: what doesn't kill ya, makes ya stronger!!

I'm strong today because the Church consistently failed me, and those who in faith called for change ... the status quo may be comfortable for a select few, but it is far from faithful, and as many wise and prophetic voices have counselled over the centuries: those things that are not faithful, nor inspired by God or the Spirit are doomed to fail!!

Change is inevitable ... and change begins by tending the wounds of our neighbours. It's a simple lesson really, but in its simplicity it has been overlooked ... fortunately though The Kingdom of God will prevail whether we want it or not!!

Anyone Else Remember the DeniMachine Give Away?

The process of going through Scotty's stuff continues ... today I unearthed a box that was jammed with a wide variety of items tucked in amongst the other stuff was a pile of advertisements for the Coca-Cola, Levi's, Ford DenimMachine!!! (He even has a full page newspaper ad saved !!)

I remember one of the DeniMachines visiting the Stratford Fall Fair (or it might have been the Western Fair in London) - the interior was done in Blue Denim (aka: Levi's) and it was a thing of beauty.

I was only nine or so when it was being promoted, and Scott would have been 15 turning 16 that fall - so he was smack in the demographic Coke was aiming for. I'm sure he would have given up his first car (a 69 Javelin) had he won one of these beauties. I'd love to know how many entries he filled out that summer and sent it in.

Today though, as I stood in Mom's kitchen looking at the DeniMachine promotion materials I remembered Scott finding a DemiMachine in an AutoTrader once a few years ago and he mused about buying it and restoring it ... today I was reminded once again that a simple piece of paper can bring so many memories ...

Boxes of memories ...

Every time I open a draw in his room, or clean up something from the shelves, closet or floor, I can clearly hear Scott's voice: "what the hell do you think you're doing?" rattling me AND the assorted items spread across his bed, his dresser and the various other surfaces ... I can't enter his room without a guttural connection to the years of fearing him finding me poking around through is treasures.

There were the absolutely beautiful Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars in his dresser, the cool stuffies in the closet, and the other odds and ends that he had tucked away here and there ... as a kid I spent many a terror filled hour poking around and exploring in my Big Brother's room, all the while KNOWING that if I was caught a beating would be the inevitable outcome.

It's funny ... even today, I still feel a shudder of fear as I enter his room and sort through things ... I know he's passed from this mortal coil, but the lesson was drummed into me well ... "LEAVE MY STUFF ALONE !!!" along with an accompanying beating, some curse words and a few other acts of brotherly 'love' taught me well !!

Yet, here I am, having to sift through the assorted odds and ends that Scott has left as a legacy ... yesterday I tackled his closet.

I sorted through his clothes, tossing the old worn out tee-shirts, bagging up the usable ones that hold no interest for me, and folding those that I can either use, or just want to keep because they speak to my soul ... along the way I found bits of paper tucked into his pockets, a few stale pieces of gum, and the odd item that left me shaking my head ... I've come to realize that my brother was in many ways an enigma ...

On the exterior there was a rough and crusty curmudgeon who prided himself for being a real S.O.B. when necessary, but inside was a soft, warm and very sensitive heart that broke easily, and that he protected fiercely ... Scott was unbelievably sentimental. I got a hint of that early in the cleaning up at Mom's when I said that I wanted Mom's binder cook book full of her hand written recipes.

"No way," he replied with a look of disbelief at my request, "I want it ..."

"For what?" I asked.

"To keep and use," he said with a sad grin on his face, "I plan on cooking more and want to use Mom's recipes ..."

I couldn't argue, nor did I feel inclined. "Okay," I said, "but I want to borrow it sometime to copy it ..."

We agreed, and I watched him carry the funky yellow and orange binder into his room, where a few short days later I retrieved it and gently carried it home ...

Scott was a sentimental old fool ... pictures, cards, notes, and mementos of trips and happenings fill the space in his room. Over and over, I have had the pleasure of sorting through his accumulated piles and laughing at the strange selection of things that he had saved ... I've wept at the pictures of family, friends, vehicles and pets that he has lovingly tucked away in a safe place ... and I've shaken my head in bewilderment at how incredibly tender a soul he possessed.

Finding the box of his childhood stuffies carefully tucked in the back of his closet alongside Dad's guitar, and a variety of other "childish" things stopped me short yesterday as I cleaned and sorted ... as I opened the box I was flooded with a tsunami of memories that took me back to my childhood ... as each stuffie emerged from the box I remembered borrowing them, Scott retrieving them, and the ensuing fights as I questioned his rigid YOU CAN`T PLAY WITH THEM attitude over his toys ...

Scott was not so much a hoarder as a curator over a dizzying collection of artifacts and treasures that had meaning to him ... he preserved carefully things that reminded him of past events and helped him garner the strength he needed to face the challenges before him. One could easily dismiss his room as cluttered and full of junk, but slowly, like any good archaeological dig, peeling back the layers reveals a beautiful, loving, artistic and creative soul, that cherished life, yearned for love, and with a cock-eyed grin and a snarky: "give your head a shake" approached life on his terms, protecting the curly headed boy that lingered deep within ...

In the last six months, as I've sorted through my brother's things I've learned more and more about him, and with each day I've come to miss him more and more, and appreciate him even more ... Scott was an amazing person ...

I wish I could have learned that simple truth before we said 'good bye' ...

I love you bro ... and I'll take good care of your stuff!!!

Church Sign from along the way ...

Lessons from Uncovered Treasures ...

It's not valuable. Just a card with two old one dollar bills tucked inside. And to be honest, I don't remember even giving it to Mom. But for some reason Mom tucked it into one of her dresser drawers and there is sat for 30 years or more until I discovered it yesterday as I was cleaning out more stuff ...

When Mom died and Scott and I began the initial cleaning we KNEW it would be a long and exhausting process. Mom was a pack rat and saved everything. The inventory of saved treasures includes bulletins from confirmations and baptisms of our cousins, invitations to weddings, showers and other family events, stacks and stacks of photos, thank you notes, news paper clippings, and a countless other bits and pieces of our lives and the lives of our circle of friends and family.

Along the way the task was complicated by Scott's unexpected and untimely passing ... but as I've carefully sifted through the assorted detritus in Mom's house I've laughed, smiled, wept, and shaken my head in bemusement ... I've learned quite a lot about my brother, my mother, my father, and my family ... I've read heart breaking notes and letters sent to mom after Dad died, leaving her to raise 'her boys' alone, and I've learned just how hard her struggle was to pick up the pieces following his death in uniform.

Over and over, I marvel at how uncaring, insensitive and unbelievably thoughtless the various social agencies were in response to her requests for help after Dad's death - a death that was 'celebrated' at the time and since as a "sacrifice for the people of Ontario." His death was a sacrifice, but the burden borne by my family was un-necessarily heavy because no one in places of power and influence saw the need to help a family who had suffered an unimaginable loss ... fortunately, the lesson was eventually learned and families like that of Constable Styles in York Region will NEVER experience what Mom went through ... but reading the many, many, many letters she received in the years after Dad's death makes me appreciate how far they've come ... I wish Mom could have benefitted a little more along the way.

And more sadly perhaps, is the repeat that Scott experienced following his accident in the early 1990's. No one who knew Scott before and after the accident can honestly say it didn't profoundly and negatively effect him ... his physical body was wrecked ... his spirit was broken ... and his emotions were ravished ... reading the many submissions he made seeking help and assistance, and the steadfast refusal of almost everyone to accept his plaintive claims is heart breaking. I know my brother carried a lot of anger - some of it came from losing Dad so young - some of it came from the limitations the accident brought to him - and some of it came from the incredible pain he carried day in and day out ... reading his accounts of what the accident did to him is hard ... far harder than I realized, because my big brother held far more pain inside himself then he EVER let on.

And yet, over and over he was told that he was faking his injuries and pain, he was told it was 'all in his head', and he was told that his claims were without substance ... for well over a decade, he fought for someone to honour his claim and give him help so he could have some quality of life ...

Today, looking back over everything I've been through in the last 7 months, and reflecting on what I've learned about my family from sorting and reading through the many letters, notes and documents that have been tucked away and preserved by both Mom and Scott, I can honestly breath a sigh of relief that the burdens they both carried for so long have been taken from them ... but with my relief comes more than just a twinge of sorrow at what they had to endure, and how much they had to fight just to have ANYONE recognize the hurt and pain they carried.

Today, I have a deeper respect for my Mom and my brother Scott for all they endured, but more importantly, I can in faith, breath a sigh of relief that today they are in a place where that burden is well and truly GONE ... For over 42 years, Mom shouldered a burden of grief that should never have been her's to bear alone ... and along the way, she protected and cherished her beloved "boys", and I am a better person for her presence and love in my life, my one regret is that she never had the chance to enjoy freedom from that burden in this life ...

Thanks Mom ... I love you more and more every day !!
I miss you, and I will never forget you, AND I am proud to remain "your boy"!!

Sermons and Other Stuff ...

Pop over to 'United Church in the Grey Highlands' for my latest sermons and other offerings, which I just updated this morning.

Rather than fearing modern technology, the folks in the Flesherton Pastoral Charge have embraced the potential and possibilities of using social media, online resources and even blogs as a means of outreach ... funny the difference a supportive community can make !!!

Check out our Pastoral Charge Web Page too: http://stjohnsunitedchurch.com/

Our God is a God of Love and Acceptance:

It is coming up on almost six years since the fire that destroyed the Church building in Minnedosa, and disrupted the lives of many ... since then life has moved on, people have forgotten the lessons that were offered, and many have simply turned their back on the horrendous events of that terrible night, and the ongoing repercussions that continue to resonate throughout the community of Minnedosa and the lives of those affected by the fire and the loss of the building.

For some, things are 'all better now', while for others (and I'd dare to say that this group far exceeds those who say 'it's all better') the effect is still being felt ... they say time heals all wounds, and while that might be true, untended wounds fester and become infected and in time can kill thier host ... Pretending it's all better serves no one, particularly the Church we are called to be ... moving on and ignoring the hurt and pain of our neighbours doesn't bring healing, it just means things linger and fester ...

Fortunately though, despite the best efforts of the willingfully blind, healing (the very Grace of God in action) comes and we that receive it are better for it ... Time does heal all wounds, but ONLY when there is honesty and openness ...

This week I once again found a comment on the posting I offered in 2007 when someone took the example of the fire and said it was 'proof' that God hates Goths ... this notion of God hating any one continues to be a ludicrious affront to all things Faithful, and shows the misuse of faith that people are capable of when they are overwhelmed with fear.

Our God is a God of love, and despite our best efforts to the contrary, our God will never be thwarted by our shortsightedness, our fears, and our insecurities ... the fire in Minnedosa and the events in the five years since underscores the folly that is experienced when people fail to surrender themselves to God ... fortunately, God's whisper continues despite the best efforts of those who fear the light (a reader's comment from the blog posting of Jan 21st 2007):

I do consider myself goth as well as catholic. Thank God for people like you, who understand that god is a force of love, not hate and that those who preach hate in his name only make the faithful look bad. Admittedly, I can be a bit violent at times (being a gamer, a goth, and asexual means that I'm an easy person to hate, and the large amounts of bullying at an early age have caused me to be a little to quick to cure intolerance with a knee to the crotch)and I do not go to church as much as i ought to (the intolerant fools sorta do a good job in scaring people away). Honestly, internet being what it is, these people are one of three things.

1) Hateful fools who I desperately hope god will cure.

2) Forum trolls being offensive, in need of psychiatric help to deal with underlying emotional conditions.

3) Intelligent people making a stealth parody of the above two and just did too good of a job. (yes these sorts of things are way more common than people realize)

ps, the odd name comes from a WoW alt

To those who claim "it's ALL better now" ... one day you WILL be called to account for your actions ...

Kinda Grim ...

The John Deere lawn tractor I brought home from Mom's has some rather grim warning stickers on it (as pictured above)

I think they get the point across rather effectively. Makes me wonder though, just who has been using garden tractors and HOW, to necessitate these kind of warnings!?!?

Fair Trade !!

I am LOVING the fact that the folks here at Flesherton have not only supported, but have EMBRACED the sale of Fair Trade products !!!

We have a WIDE range of coffee from THREE (yes, THREE) different companies, and as of today, we have dried fruit, tea, chocolate, sugar and even Fair Trade Merchandise available at the Church Office as well as at booths at two Farmers' Markets !!!

So far the Pastoral Charge has realized a profit of close to $500 dollars in less than a month, and we've raised the level of awareness in the community about our presence, and about Fair Trade tremendously.

It feels good just know you can really make a difference sometimes !!!

43 Years Ago ...

This week in York Region, family, friends and fellow officers will gather to say farewell to Constable Styles, who died on duty this past week ...

I've thought of his children frequently in the last few days ... I know too well the journey they are about to embark upon. Like them, I was too young to know my Father when he fell on duty on June 29th 1968 ... he would be known to me through the stories and recollections of others who shared their memories with me over the years ... I never knew my Dad, but I grew up knowing that I missed him, and that I had missed out on a special man ...

My Dad was, like Constable Styles a hero before the accident that claimed his life, and remained a hero subsequent to his death ...

There is much about Dad I wish I could have known ... I wish I could have heard his laughter, felt his touch, head his voice, shared a beer with him, and enjoyed the many things that gave him joy in his life, beginning with his family ...

Forty Three years ago this week Constable Samuel Ankenmann died while on duty with the OPP, and today for the first time, I am alone in missing him ... I hope the journey ahead is different for the Styles children. I know they will get more support and help than Scott and I ever got - from help to go to school, through to more than an occassional visit from the detachment commanding officer, the children of fallen officers are not forgotten in the same way Scott and I were ... we were simply a statistic after a few years ...

Fortunately this is NOT something that will happen to the Styles children, and for that I am grateful ... losing a father is hard enough, but struggling day after day, year after year with no help and little support tears away at you ... and my brother and I both experienced this in our lives ...

Time heals all wounds ... but sometimes it takes a LONG time to heal ...

Trying ...

I've wanted to blog ... I've been trying to blog ... but over the last couple of months I've honestly struggled with what I could offer here ...

I don't want this blog to become an introspective and maudlin place full of sad postings about how I'm feeling and how much I miss my Mom and my brother, and grieve thier passing ... and so, I often forego coming here and posting anything ... I'm still grieving and still struggling, and that shouldn't surprise anyone. Afterall, I've often counselled families in grieve with the teaching drawn from our Jewish brothers and sisters, that it takes a year to feel somewhat normal.

In the many resources I've read over the last two decades on death and grief, I've read over and over how the Jewish customs of mourning last for over a year, with requirements to honour and respect the breadth of feelings that accompany the mourner. I get it in a real way today ...

Overall, I'm doing okay ... most days I can do what needs to be done, and face the world ... but some days I feel more like crawling into bed and letting the world pass me by.

There is seldom a day that goes by wherein I don't think of Mom, Scott, Mr Baumbach, Indigo, and how much I miss each of them ... it's been a hard year thus far ... but I also trust AND BELIEVE that it will get better. Such is the promise of the Resurrection!

Frequently I find myself lapsing into silence ... preferring to just stand present in the moment and let both the past and the future go ... instead of experiencing the acuteness of missing my family, I find myself surrounded by thoughts and memories of the journeys we've shared, and the happenings that marked our lives together, and in spite of my sorrow I can smile and remember ...

As one of my favourite funeral readings reminds us: memory is a powerful thing ... those we remember are never really gone, their presence is still felt among us ...

Most of my days lately are taken up trying to keep up with work, life, and family ... and scattered throughout the day are memories and their powerful recollection of lost loved ones who are gone, but not really forgotten ...

As Forrest Gump would say (for the moment) "that's all I have to say about that!"

Dayenu!

They are heroes in life not death ...

The news today is filled with the story of a 32 year old Police Officer who was dragged to his death in York Region by a 15 year old driving a mini-van.

The fallen officer leaves a wife and two young children ...

The story hit a nerve ...

It was forty three years ago today that my dad, Constable Sam Ankenmann put on his uniform and left for work. He was working nights.

A family friend has told me that his last memory of Dad was looking through the front window of our living room and spying Dad sleeping in the chair with me nestled on his chest. Rob was playing with Scott on the front porch and shortly after peeking through the window he was called home ... Dad put me in my crib, then headed for work ...

He never came home. Instead in the early morning hours of June 29th 1968, his fellow officer raced to the accident scene, and tried in vain to save his life ... later they would inform Mom and our family ... and 43 years later it still hurts to think about that horrible day ...

Waking this morning to the news that an officer had fallen on duty reminded me that in moments like this we are ALL family, and the fallen are heroes in life, not death.

My thoughts and prayers for the family and comrades of the fallen officer ... they are on a long and lonely journey ... but fortunately, they are not alone!

Back in the Game !!!

I'll be the first to admit that my interest in Fair Trade Coffee is motivated by a selfish desire to have GOOD coffee every morning.

Instead of having to shlep to the grocery store to buy coffee from thier meagre selection of fair trade and organic coffees, I like to help introduce new coffees and teas to the local community through our Church. It means I get easy access to good coffee, and the local congregations get the benefit of making a few extra dollars from the sales and promotion of Fair Trade Coffee.

Here in Flesherton, I've had an interesting and startling experience with the introduction of Fair Trade Products ... not only have they sold well within the congregation, the Council decided that they should use the promotion of Fair Trade as a means of reaching out into the community and
promoting our Congregations while promoting the FT products.

The work to get a booth in the local farmer's market was done by Council Members, and the folks who volunteer each week to man the booth and promote the product are a cross-section of our Faith Community, and highlight the enthusiasm that both Eugenia and St John's United Churches have in abundance.

So, today I not only have ready access to a fine cup of coffee each and every morning, I think we are standing on the verge of something amazing when I look at the potential and possibilities of this outreach project with the good folks of the Flesherton Pastoral Charge. Today the promotion of Fair Trade Coffee, Tea, Sugar, Fruit and Chocolate is about more than just the products, it's about telling the local community that we're alive and well and continuing to share our life and ministry with our community and the world !!!

The folks in Flesherton are enthusiastic about changing the world one cup of coffee at a time, and it feels GREAT to be sharing this journey with them !!!

Introducing the Orchestra's Newest Member ...

Last week Ms H. arrived back home from a walk with a tiny kitten tucked in her arms ... since then we've nurtured, feed and cared for this wee one ... and she's become a member of the menagerie that shares our home ...

we're still working on a name for her, but the most recent suggestion has been "Clara" short for "Clarinet" ... afterall, with Flute taking on the role of her 'momma' and Oboe being the playful big brother, another orchestra name seems appropriate.

New Resources in an age old battle ...

The weather outside is frightful ... not cold and snowy, but hot and VERY muggy ... so, with the ceiling fans and central air doing their job to keep the house comfie, my plans for the day don't involve much beyond resting, doing some crossword puzzles and catching up on some reading.

The reading was given a boost when this morning's mail contained a parcel of books and resources ordered YESTERDAY from the United Church Resource Distribution Centre in TO. I know they are efficent and fast - but really, I couldn't have driven down and picked it up any fast - OR CHEAPER !!!

So, today is going to focus on reading the book pictured above, a couple of Reginald Bibby's latests works, and a book by former UCC Moderator Bill Phipps called "Cause for Hope."

The one aspect of this however, is the fact that the books on homelessness, poverty and the urgent need for National policies on food, housing, poverty and homelessness were ALL in the clearance section of the UCRD web page !!

It saddens me to consider that the urgent need of facing and addressing poverty is by and large irrelevant to the Largest Protestant Denomination in the land ... the United Church of Canada has long been on the forefront of Social Justice issues in Canada, and yet given the dramatic increase in poverty rates, usage of food banks and soup kitchens, and the startling spike in demand for homeless shelter beds, the UCC is strangely quiet about this ...

Admittedly, many congregations like those of Eugenia and St John's are busy dealing with the local issue of hunger, poverty and housing through ongoing partnerships with other churches and community groups, but the leadership of our Church has fallen silent about this urgent and very relevant issue.

Homelessness and poverty are about to get worse with a Conservative Majority in Ottawa, and if Ontario takes the expected swing to the right that this fall's election seems to be prophecying, the return of Harris-like policies will only further exacerabate a pre-existing problem ... and yet, the United Church of Canada remains strangely quiet ...

Having needed to use a Food Bank while working a dozen part time jobs, I have a definite sensitivity to this issue ... and knowing that the numbers continue to indicate that the 'problem' of poverty, hunger and homelessness is getting worse NOT better - I think it's time to break the silence and begin to speak up and speak out about a problem that is entirely solvable.

Canada needs a National Housing Policy that makes adequate, safe and AFFORDABLE housing a right NOT a privilege.

Canada needs a National Food Policy that protects our domestic food production while ensuring EVERYONE has access to adequate, safe and affordable food.

Canada needs to address the issues that lead to poverty, hunger and homelessness - and the ONLY way that can happen is if people become aware and knowledgable about this, and no longer accept silence as the status quo response.

I am fortunate to have worked with Food Banks and Soup Kitchens in a variety of capacities including NEEDING them ... those experiences have left an indelibable impression on me and on my view of the world ... stay tuned ... this WILL NOT be the last time I speak out and speak up about these issues ...

The Church is about transformation ... and our faith calls us to care for 'the least of these my sisters and brothers' ... Can is seriously be ANY clearer or more straight forward than this??

Time to change the world ... who's with me ???

New Sermons ...

Today is a day for playing a bit of catch up ... I've ordered coffee and tea for our fair trade booth at the Flesherton Farmers' Market, and now I'm trying to get caught up on the online presence of the Pastoral Charge by updating our web page and our blog ...

SO, over at the blog: "United Church in the Grey Highlands" I've posted the most recent sermons and services ... I'll get the web page updated soon ...

Just wanted to let everyone know !!!

Tis Dandelion Season !!!

To some they are annoying and obnoxious weeds ... to others they are simply a plant ... and to still others, they are an amazing piece of creation that offers a myriad of possibilities and potentials ranging from medicine, to food through to wine ... and every spring the ubiquitious dandelion offers its beauty and its potential in unimaginable profusion ...

I have frequently preached on the usefulness of this so-called weed, and noted that it is one of the most useful and versatile plants on the plant. A search for using dandelions will reveal hundreds upon hundreds of suggestions, and the litany of what this simple plant is good for, is fairly long and extensive.

But to me, the full beauty of the dandelion comes when a fist full of the brilliant yellow flowers is offered with a smile. As a friend noted earlier this morning: you would have to be pretty hard hearted not to see the beauty in THAT!!

Reminders ...

Today I was clearing away stuff from my desk when I found a note sent a couple of years ago from Indigo Sweetwater ... it brought a smile to my face and a tear to my eye ... it was a reminder of wonderful friend, and the profound and lasting impact she has had on the world, her family and the broad circle of folks privileged to call her FRIEND.

Haven't been blogging lately ...

It has been a long winter and spring ... losing mom, then my brother, and having to deal with all that their deaths have entailed have left me exhausted ... trying to keep working while balancing my grief journey, supporting my kids and trying to just keep up has left me a couple of miles past exhausted ...

I've only just begun reading again after a six plus month hiatus ...

I wish I could offer some profound bit of wisdom, but right now I find myself moving through the day taking each step as it comes, and facing whatever the day might bring ... I'm tired ... I know it's not much of an excuse, but it's the main reason I haven't been blogging ... I've been thinking about life, the universe and everything, but when I finally get time to sit down at a keyboard, I end up playing a couple of facebook games, checking my emails, seeing what's new in the world, then I'm done ...

I want to blog ... but ...

In time it will come ... I've been reading the latest Reginald Bibby, the latest by Tim Huff, and some other material on the current state of the church ... I've been thinking about how to better utilize online resources for the work and ministry of the Church ... but mostly, I've been moving through my days one step at a time.

This past weekend we gathered in Lingelbach Cemetery to lay to rest Mom and Scott beside Dad ... Scott was cremated and his urn was placed in Mom's arms and together they were placed beside Dad ... it was a hard day emotionally, but it was a good way to say our good byes. The gathering of friends and family out at the Bush helped to celebrate the lives of both Mom and Scott in a wonderful and relaxed way ... I could picture Scott standing on the balcony of the shop, a bottle of Crystal in hand, smiling as everyone shared stories ... and Mom was sitting by the front door of the shop in the lawn chair she long ago claimed as "mine", claiming one last time the role of elder statesman for the Elliot clan, as they gathered with almost everyone there for the first time in 20 years ... if the First People of Bella Coola are to be believed (and there is no reason to doubt them), in the warm shadows ALL around lurked the spirits of my Grandparents, my uncles, and my, cousins who have gone ahead of us to the Spirit World.

As Uma once told me over tea - "they are only as far away as the next breath and as close as the wind on our cheeks."

They might be gone ... but they are not forgotten ...

Miscommunication ...

I've worn this button for quite awhile ... I've had positive comments about it, and I've had funny looks offered because of it, but last week I had a first because of it ...

I went into one of the local stores to grab a cup of coffee along the way. The Asian owner looked at my button then said with a glare - "what's your problem with hunters?"

"Pardon?" I replied very confused ...

"Hunters!!" He said quite emphatically, "why don't you like hunters?"

"Um ..." I wasn't sure what he meant and obviously looked very very very confused.

"Your button," he said pointing, "why don't you like hunters?"

"Hunters?" I said as I pulled my button up to look at it ... as I re-read the lettering he did too ...

"OH, Hunger !!" he said relieved, "I thought it said "no hunter" ... I wonder if you're a bit crazy wearing that around here ..." He then smiled and laughed then as he handed me my coffee he added, "you do like hunters don't you?"

"Oh yeah, I don't mind hunters," I said laughing, "and if they offer me some venison once in a while I like them even more."